His Shadowed Path
by CSIBuckeye
Summary: Death had taken Grissom's father and become his livelihood, but without it he never would have loved Sara. This is a companion piece to Her Shadowed Path by daphnedangerlove.


Title: His Shadowed Path

Author: CSIBuckeye

Pairing: GSR

Rating: Teen

Spoilers: Through "Living Doll"

Disclaimer: I own none of these characters. I borrow them intermittently for my own pleasure and no money ever exchanges hands.

Notes: Eternal thanks to D for the insightful and patient beta, and to Carie for help with the titles and being our second set of eyes.

We've been talking about collaborating on a story for a long time, and while this isn't what we had in mind initially, this is what we ended up with. Hope you enjoy them both, and thanks for reading!

Check out daphnedangerlove's companion piece "Her Shadowed Path"

"Death is more universal than life, everyone dies but not everyone truly lives."

A. Sachs

Marina Del Rey, California 1966

_The hush inside the weathered bungalow enveloped me in a familiar embrace, but the blue eyes that met mine as I entered were unexpected. A stoic nine year old hovered protectively behind his mother, warding off the pitying glances cast their way by friends and family. He held my gaze just long enough for me to see the question nestled behind the mask of his self appointed responsibility._

_It was always the same. Why? What they couldn't understand was that there were no reasons. It just was, as it had always been. And though I knew he would never find the answers to the questions in his heart tonight, I also knew his journey would be worth watching._

"Holy Mary, mother of God, pray for us sinners now and at the hour of our…" He swallowed hard as the word caught in his throat. Even as he lifted his head, hoping the evening breeze carried his prayers to the heavens, he could feel the faith ebbing from him. _What kind of God would do this? _

Sitting on the new wooden platform about ten feet up in the big tree, he ran his hand over the still rough edges of the planks, the same ones his dad's hands had nailed together just five days ago. He studied the sky, looking for answers and finding nothing but stars. He focused on the constellations his dad had shown him, finding comfort in their familiar patterns even as his mind wandered to the muslin covered telescope in the garage. They would never go star gazing again, never throw the baseball again, never finish the tree house in which he sat. And as the nevers multiplied so did the rage.

"Why?" He sobbed into the night, anger and confusion giving an edge to his voice. Why had his dad been taken from him? Why wouldn't anyone explain anything to him? "Someday… Someday I'll be the one with all the answers."

Hennepin County, Minnesota 1985

_Icy blue eyes flicked up to where I stood in the doorway of the tiny apartment. Most people had no awareness of my presence, but as I'd come to find out, he wasn't most people_. _I'd kept tabs on him since our first meeting and I'd watched a child's promise blossom into a man's obsession. Finding answers had become Grissom's singular mission, and I found myself wondering if the cost would some day be more than he could afford._

The stink of decay hung in the air and trash littered every square inch of the floor. Cockroaches scattered as he knelt beside the stained mattress, but it was the sight before him that made his stomach turn. Two tiny bodies had been cast aside like the rest of the garbage in the room, and his desire for justice leapt into his chest. He averted his eyes momentarily as he tried to control his breathing, feeling his anger grow by the second. There wasn't a punishment severe enough for whoever had done this.

"Collect the evidence Grissom, without prejudice or emotion. Until you can master that, you'll remain an inferior CSI." Gerard's words echoed in his head as he pushed down his feelings. He knew that in order to be the best, to find the answers he so desperately sought, he had to turn off his heart and switch on his critical thinking. It still took a concerted effort to morph from Gil Grissom, the man who ached for the victims and the people they left behind, to Gil Grissom the CSI who saw everything and felt nothing. Someday, he knew that transition would happen seamlessly, and he still wasn't sure that would be entirely welcome.

Gritting his teeth he turned his full attention to the children lying before him and tried to close off the part of himself that could feel. He honed his focus until the only thing he heard was the evidence as it began to speak to him. He listened with every fiber in his being, knowing the tiniest detail could end up being the difference, a conviction instead of an acquittal, some closure instead of another in the endless stream of questions. Everyone deserved answers, especially the kids, and he was willing to sacrifice a little of his own soul to make sure they got them.

Marina Del Rey, California 2003

_The wallpaper had peeled up around the edges, and years of sunlight had washed out the paint but otherwise it was remarkably similar to the last time I'd been here. The same certainly couldn't be said for the bearded man who looked up as I entered the master bedroom. He sat cross legged on the floor, surrounded by packing materials. And even though the anger and confusion of youth had long ago been replaced by resignation and solitude, I was still surprised at the emptiness I found in his eyes. I wondered if the loss of his mother would be enough to snap him out of the stupor he walked in, to make him realize that time was set, and chances weren't infinite._

He added the last of her shoes to the boxes going to charity and as he taped them shut he looked again at what was left. Men's dress shirts, sweaters, ties, even an overcoat, all with the tags still attached hung neatly in her closet. He knew she'd done it when he was a kid, on his dad's birthday and at Christmas, but he had no idea she'd continued all these years. Apparently everyone had their secrets. His back and legs ached from too long spent in one position and he reclined back onto the floor for a good stretch, but as he did he caught a glimpse of a box pushed under the edge of the bed. More secrets?

Sliding it out, he lifted the lid and gently removed an enormous pile of letters. He fanned them out, noting his mom's handwriting on all of them as he selected the one from the bottom of the pile. It was addressed to his father and was dated the day he died. He ran his thumb over the words, feeling the slight indentation in the paper and pausing over one of the many tear stained smudges on the page. He began to read.

_There are so many things I wish I would have told you. I guess we always think there'll be another day, another chance, another tomorrow. And then one day they're gone and all we can think about is what we'd give for just one more._

A quick sift through the pile revealed a love story that had managed to defy time and death. And he realized that since the day his dad had died, his mom had simply been passing the time until she had the chance to be with him again.

He sighed as he walked out into the yard, drawn to the big tree by the old wooden platform still visible through the branches. He'd almost forgotten about it. His dad had been just as excited as he'd been, but his mom had been sure he was going to fall and break his arm. He'd watched his dad pull his mom aside, whisper something in her ear and kiss her softly on the cheek. That had been enough to get her blessing, and after all these years, she'd never had it torn down.

He leaned against the tree, the bark rough through the fabric of his shirt, and gazed up at the stars, finding comfort there just as he had all those years ago. The breeze kicked up and his eyes slid closed as he inhaled the salty air, a sad smile spreading over his face. For a split second, Grissom wished this wasn't his to bear alone, and the image of a young brunette sprang into his head. He banished her quickly, knowing now more than ever, that when the person you love left you behind, time might go on, but life didn't always go on with it.

Shaking his head, he opened his eyes. "I hope you two really are together somewhere. But I'm not you. I'd have to risk everything…and I just…can't."

Las Vegas, Nevada 2005

_ I studied the young woman before me, intimately familiar with her past as well; our paths were as interwoven as mine and Grissom's. Looking over Sara's shoulder toward the door, I caught Grissom's eye just before he grasped the situation in the small office. The look on his face showed more than I'd ever seen him reveal to another soul, and I thought perhaps he was finally ready to take that risk after all. _

The fear in her eyes was his undoing and it was answered by the regret burning in his own. No! It couldn't end like this; it wasn't supposed to happen like this. He'd never felt the softness of her lips against his own, never seen his love reflected back to him from the depths of her eyes, never heard the passionate sounds he imagined she'd make when he was buried inside her. And as the weight of all the nevers sat squarely on his chest, his next breath threatened by the hopelessness of the situation, he found just what he needed. The look of defiant determination on her face let him see that she had no intention of giving up, and she didn't expect him to either. He needed that promise…he needed that chance.

And as Sara exploded through the door, he found himself unable to move. His gaze flicked back and forth between the scene playing out in the office and watching her walk away from him like she had so many times before. But this time it was different, this time he had no intention of letting her go.

All he could think about was what his mom would have given for another chance, what so many would have given. And since someone had seen fit to give him the chance he'd pleaded for, he was going to make damn sure he didn't let it slip through his fingers.

Las Vegas, Nevada Today

"I can't see you but I know you're there…and you…can't…have her." Sobs wracked his body and he didn't make the feeblest attempt at holding them back. Grissom clasped his hands together and lifted his anguished face as he whispered, "Please, no…I'll do anything."

_For the first time I reached out to him, laying my hand gently on his shoulder as I watched him break. For someone so intimately familiar with death, it had taken him nearly fifty years to finally make an offer. Almost everyone bargains in the end, either for themselves, or for the ones they love. But it was in his offer that I finally got my first good look at the man I'd known for so long. "Anything?" _

Grissom shuddered and whipped his head around, his eyes wide with the sight behind him. The room was empty.

_I leaned in and whispered, "Breathe it in Dr. Grissom. That fear that rips the air from your lungs, that panic that wells in your chest, that ache that penetrates the most secret places of your soul? That tells you exactly how lucky you are."_

Grissom glanced over his other shoulder, eyes probing the deepest recesses of his darkened office as he searched in vain for the source of the voice that echoed in his head. "Lucky? Sara's out there God knows where, in danger, in pain, dying…" He swallowed the bile that rose in his throat along with that thought. "I'm supposed to feel lucky?"

_"Yes. Not everyone gets the chance to see what's truly important. Not everyone has the strength to actually look."_

"Love?" His voice was barely audible over the hum of the air conditioner. For the majority of his life, love had been something to be feared, not embraced, something that could cause more pain than pleasure, more tears than happiness. He had spent his fifty years trying to avoid the very position he now found himself in, vulnerable and helpless.

_"Not just love Grissom…unselfish love, love that risks…everything. In the end, it's all there is, and it's the only thing that holds power over me."_

For the first time he saw with absolute clarity that Sara was not only his love, she was his life…his world. There was no lab, no career, no politics, there was only her. And he realized that no matter what happened, no matter how bleak things got, he would never, not for one second, regret having taken the chance to love her.

_I made my way to the door as Grissom's phone rang with the news he'd been praying for. Looking back, I watched the relief wash over him like a baptism and I witnessed the rebirth of a man, in his love for a woman and in his hope for their future. I took my leave with a contented smile, knowing we would be seeing each other again very soon._ _In the mean time, I had an appointment in the desert._


End file.
